


Red Sands

by SilenceNorth



Series: Red Series [1]
Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Blood, Electrocution, F/M, Forced Pregnancy, Gore, Loss of Virginity, Non-Canon Relationship, Painful Sex, Rape, Stockholm Syndrome, Torture, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-24 21:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10750380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceNorth/pseuds/SilenceNorth
Summary: What if the Sun had tasked Helis with something other than capturing Aloy for the Sun Ring?Very gritty and violent. Please don't be too angry with me.Weak stomachs or sensibilities need not apply.Inspired by a suggestion, Wizard's First Rule, and a little bit of 10 Cloverfield Lane.





	1. Thirst

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nobody_Nerd (Shards_Of_Bloom)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shards_Of_Bloom/gifts).



“Still alive… good.”

The words echoed through her dreams, as did the blast of heat she felt from the blast bomb Helis let fly in her direction before her world became the thick, dark blanket she saw from then on. She could smell even her own flesh burning, her hair singed, one of the beads in her necklace melted to her throat.

She began to doubt her dreams were visions of her mind, exactly, but really moments of consciousness. They came and went like a leaf on the shore, but were slowly lasting longer every time. She remembered glimpses of red stone, of the smell of medicinal herbs, of water at her lips. She was in pain, her joints screaming, and she slept on the stone that surrounded her. The only light came from a hole carved into the rock, across the room.

After what seemed like dozens of attempts, her eyes rolled open. They stung, and tears bled down her cheeks. There was a doorway across from her, set in stone, leading to darkness. A simple bench furnished the room, which she slowly realized was a dungeon.

She groaned, moving to reach for her head. It felt so heavy, and she had a hard time breathing. Her hand went to her neck. It was encased in metal, a thick collar that weighed her down. Fingers traced over the D-ring, following the chain to the wall. Her hands, however, were free, and she used them to push herself up.

The room spun, so she shut her eyes, willing her balance to not desert her. Her hair was loose, tangled, dust and litter clinging to it. Her clothes were tattered, burned, her armor gone. Her weapons were nowhere to be seen, and her fingers only found skin when they went to probe her temple.

It was very, very hot. She shifted away from the patch of light on the ground. The heat, the red stone… it all pointed to Sunfall. So she was still here. Why was she still alive?

With what strength she had, she tested the chain on the wall, more to satisfy herself than actual escape. Her eyes went to the window at the top of the wall. She could fit through if she could only reach it. She tried to remember where in Sunfall the dungeons were, and her mind ached with the effort.

She slumped back against the wall, sliding back down it to catch her breath. The watering her eyes were doing affected her nose, and she sniffed, wiping the back of her hand over her face.

“There will be plenty of time for weeping,” came a voice from the darkness through the doorway. She wondered how long Helis had been there, just beyond her sight. She would recognize the calm, even voice anywhere. He stepped into the light, barely able to fit through the doorway, and scowled down at her.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat was hoarse, voice nothing but a whisper.

He knelt, resting his arms over his knees, seemingly interested to hear what she had to say.

“I’ll be sure to save you some tissues,” she rasped.

He wasn’t amused. Standing, he moved to where the bench rested across the room. He paused, wiping dust from it, before sitting. In the back of her mind, Aloy found the sight of the huge, hardened murderer gladiator dusting off his seat before taking it absurd.

“The Sun has returned you to me,” came his explanation as he leaned against the rock wall, crossing a sandaled leg over the other knee. He wasn’t wearing the headdress she knew him for, but looked the day he did when he stabbed Rost in the stomach. She curled her lip in a snarl.

“He saved you, that day on the mountain. Saw to it you would survive, that you would _hound_ me across three lands. But I was blinded by His light. I didn’t understand his true purpose for you.”

His voice was fading into a drone. Aloy’s eyes rolled back into her head, the back of which rested against the hot stone behind her. Sweat leaked into her eyes, but she barely felt the sting.

She didn’t hear him leave. She could only focus on her breathing, choking on the thick hot air, her mouth gaping in her search for relief. It wasn’t until hands were grasping her shoulders that she opened her eyes again. Two of the Eclipse priests were there, holding her aloft. She gained her feet beneath her, flickering her eyes beneath her lashes. Neither of them held keys. She cursed inwardly as she saw the bucket.

They washed her like laundry, removing her clothing with swift fingers, one supporting her always while the other worked. Neither spoke, even as she tried to ask why she was still alive. They applied stiff brushes to her skin, scrubbing hard, reopening wounds and setting burns afire once more.  Scissors appeared, and they cut the litter from her hair, not bothering to untangle it. When she was dry, they made her step into a thin shift made of black cotton, pulling it up to secure at her shoulders with ties. A sash was loosely tied around her waist, keeping the arrangement together, and then the priests left her.

“Water!” She managed, finally, to shout in their direction, but they disappeared down the hallway without a backwards glance. Her strength left her now that her support was gone, and she sank once more to the wet floor, letting it cool her skin. She pressed her lips to the ground, sucking up what she could. She knew it wasn’t enough.

 

* * *

 

 

The darkness had enveloped her cell when movement forced her awake, her head pounding with the first signs of dehydration. She groaned, pressing a palm against her eye in an attempt to alleviate the pressure. She could barely see sandaled feet before her face.

“You were never made for our lands,” Helis noted. “The light burns your skin, the sand parches your throat. Even now, you’re dying.”

There was a jingle of keys, and her hopes surged. If she could only catch him off guard, she could…

The weight on her neck lessened, but didn’t leave her completely. She twisted, seeing her chain swinging against the wall, her hand lifting to feel the collar still around her neck. Her eyes flicked up to Helis.

She let the pain in her head fuel her, taking advantage of her legs bunched beneath her body. She launched herself towards him, her nails going for his eyes. She felt herself scratch his face just as his hand closed on her throat, slamming her against the wall. She gasped, clawing for him, but his reach was much farther than hers. He watched her with his impassive, pale eyes as she writhed against the wall, pinned where she couldn’t reach the floor.

The darkness began at the edges of her vision, almost a welcoming blackness. The last thing she could see was Helis’ slow smile.

 

* * *

 

 

It had all been a horrible nightmare, she was sure. Every time she awoke it’s what she told herself. But then she would feel the hard stone under her cheek, the heat blistering her skin, and she was reminded she was in hell.

But not forever, she assured herself. She would be killed or she would escape. Either way, it would end. This gave her at least a shred of hope, and encouraged her to continue to find a way out. Her chain had been released, so she attempted to walk. Lack of food and water had taken a toll on her, and she wasn’t sure how long she’d been unconscious. Carefully, she made her way to the doorway, feeling her path through the dark. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw there was no actual door, but a hallway. At the end, a gate blocked her path, light flickering beyond. She sighed, wrapping her hands around the gate, leaning against it.

With a shriek, it opened. Aloy frowned. Surely she was guarded in _some_ way. Was this a trap? Carefully, she nudged the gate wider, slipping through. Her breath was coming faster the farther she travelled, passing darkened, locked rooms on her way. Other cells. But why was she…

Gaining the end of the hallway, she found another wooden door. Testing it, she saw it, too, was unlocked, and she curiously passed through. The sunlight beyond made her eyes water, and she lifted her hand to shield against the sun filtering through the windows.

She licked her parched lips as she saw the fountain in the center of the room, bubbling with fresh water. She fell upon it, cupping the clear liquid to her lips and drinking fastidiously. She gasped air between gulps, letting the cool water soothe the burning in her head and throat.

A cry of alarm escaped her lips as she saw Helis sitting across from her, watching her every move. She scrambled back, quickly looking for a weapon. The room she was in wasn’t lavish, but grander than anything in the Sacred Lands. Polished stone served as a floor, and the windows were open, letting the sunlight filter through. Her hands scrabbled she grabbed the closest thing she could, a clay vase. She could only pray hopelessly that it was full of blaze.

Helis grinned at her. Lifting a hand, he displayed a small switch in his palm. It looked like something Dervahl could have made. Casually, his thumb pressed a button, and a searing jolt of pain branched from her neck.

The vase dropped to the floor, shattering seeds across the surface. She fell next to it, paralyzed, thrashing, unable even to reach for her collar. It seemed to go on for minutes, hours, but when it stopped she could only lay there, gasping for breath. Her whole body shuddered with the aftermath of the electricity.

Helis was standing over her, blocking out the sun, and once more he lifted the switch. She winced, ready for another jolt. “Are we ready to come to an understanding?” He asked her, brow gathering darkly over his pale eyes. “It is not displeasing to see you suffer.”

She reached up, pleading. “Don’t…” was all she could think to say. She would do anything to feel that again any time soon. Helis seemed satisfied, standing and walking away from her.

Carefully, she rolled to her stomach, attempting to catch her breath. “Just kill me,” she challenged him weakly.

“I’ve tried, remember?” Helis asked, resuming his seat. The chair was slightly too small for his huge frame, though upon it he had the appearance of a tyrant king on a throne. “A threat, they called you.” He toyed with the collar switch in his hand. “You were meant to live, but you could not be allowed to interfere any farther. That’s why you’re here, Aloy of the Nora. The Sun has given you to me. You are no longer a threat. You’re now mine.”

She felt sick to her stomach. “I’d rather die,” she told him.

Helis shrugged. “There will be times you will wish you did,” he promised. “But I have use for you, and your death is no longer in the near future.”

Her lip curled in a snarl. “If you’re thinking you’ll be getting any sort of pleasure out of this, you’re sorely mistaken,” she promised.

Helis scoffed. “Pleasure is none of my concern. Comfort leads to weakness. I am a pawn of the Sun himself, and the Sun wants you.”

“You’re insane, Helis. Was it you who corrupted the mad king, or was it the other way around?” She could feel her throat tightening, making her voice rasp. She moved herself to a crouch, her eyes on the switch in the gladiator’s hand.

Helis looked almost bored. He casually circled the switch with his thumb. Aloy attempted to change the subject.

“Why was I cleaned? Dressed?”

“You’ll be fed, as well. Kept in perfect health, aside from your captivity.” Helis stood, moving to the table nearby. “But should you try to escape… well. You have seen my newest toy.”

Aloy peered at the table. Upon it sat bowls of fruit and dried meat. Her stomach growled with fervor as her eyes roved across the spread.

Helis caught her staring. “Come. You may sit.” He held his scowl, so she was unsure if he disagreed with her need for sustenance. Could he have poisoned the food?

She moved unsteadily towards the table, taking a place as far away from Helis as possible. She stole a bunch of grapes, relishing in their cool taste. For a moment she forgot where she was, only knew that the fruit before her satisfied both hunger and thirst, giving her strength.

The gladiator watched her, and again her suspicions rose as she realized he didn’t touch the food himself. She chewed more slowly, reaching to wash her mouthful down with a goblet she saw nearby. She spat it back out. “Wine?” she asked incredulously. She didn’t peg Helis as a wine drinker.

“As I said, pleasure and comfort leads to weakness. Fill yourself. Indulge as you like,” came his deadpanned challenged. She glared at him, grinding her teeth, and pointedly tipped the goblet over onto the floor. Wine spread like blood.

“Perhaps I’ll starve myself?” She asked. He looked at her blandly.

“You would be fed. It would not be gentle.”

“And if I escaped? Let you push that button until it killed me?”

She could see a muscle in Helis’ bulldog jaw tick. “It would not. But the pain would make you wish you were dead, and we would find you, and let it continue until you’ve learned there is no way out.”

She sat silently. “Someone will come for me,” finally, at a length. “Your plan is flawed.”

“That may be so. But the Sun sees all. He will tell me his wishes in due time. Until then, you stay here. If you leave, the collar will hurt you. If you try to remove it, the collar will hurt you. If you call out, it will see to it that you can make no other noises.”

With that, the gladiator stood, lifting his helmet from the table and settling it around his head. “Do not be a fool.” With that, he swept from the building, shutting the door behind him.

Aloy glanced around. The place was sparse, as if at one point had been abandoned and then reclaimed. A bed rested against the wall, made and undisturbed. She stood, exploring the covered baskets around her. Dried food, wool, and other items for long-term stay greeted her, but otherwise, nothing she could use as a weapon. Half heartedly, she returned to the entrance of the dungeon, finding every cell within empty. So it was a guard outpost. She wondered how far from the city she was.

Carefully, she peered out the window, squinting in the sun. The wind blew sand across her vision, and she could just make out the walls of the Sun Ring. She saw no other people nearby, and indeed, the building looked avoided, off-limits.

Aloy turned and furiously knocked a bowl of fruit into the wall, smashing a mirror that hung there. She stood before it, barely able to recognize the woman that looked back at her. She scowled, then reached up to her neck. She could barely fit a finger between her skin and the metal, but otherwise saw no seam in which she could pry, even if she wanted to attempt it.

She blinked at the mirror again, and, carefully, wedged off a piece of the shattered glass. She slipped it discreetly into the sash at her waist.

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t until late that night that Helis had returned. Aloy had toyed with the idea of sprinting through the door, testing the Gladiator’s threat. But she would need to know his schedule, his movements, in case his words weren’t a simple bluff and she would need to be found quickly.

He strode in through the door, unconcerned with the mess she had made around here, and set his helmet on the table. She was sitting on the bed, wedged into the corner, but he saw her quickly. Making note of where she was, he set a parcel of more dried meat on the table, baring his back to her.

With a movement that wouldn’t have triggered even a watcher, Aloy sprang at him, glass shard in her hand. The glass sank into the back of his shoulder, cutting her hand slightly as its momentum ceased, and he whirled with an elbow to her head. She lost her grip on the glass and hit the floor face first, tasting blood on her lip. Her senses rang, but suddenly the pain of the collar shot through her, and it was all she could do to breathe.

Helis left the switch on, setting the trigger on the table next to his helmet. He moved away from her, aloof, ignoring her squirming on the floor. She was almost paralyzed, and her vision throbbed with red, but her consciousness wouldn’t leave her. She saw everything Helis did as he unbuckled his armor, tending to the wound she gave him. He used the shattered remains of the mirror to see where the glass was, pulling it from his flesh, unconcerned with the blood.

She began to sob as he took the mirror from the wall and with a grunt, heaved it out the window, far into the sand. She was invisible to him as she choked, reaching for him, pleading for him to turn off the pain, but he stepped around her. Sitting on the bed, he threw a blanket over his shoulders and rolled away. She watched the blood cake and dry on his back as the minutes and hours passed.

Every muscle felt torn, every joint like rocks had been ground into them. She coughed blood, both from her lip and her throat, writhing on the floor. She wanted to pass out, to die, anything, but the pain kept her conscious, lucid, and fully aware of how it felt.

Suddenly, it stopped. She could only breathe, laying there face up on the floor, her eyes glassy with tears and her throat hoarse from screaming. There was light. Finally, it was morning. Helis sat at the table, watching her as she attempted to recover. She couldn’t move anything yet, but she felt her limbs at least. She’d wet herself during the night, unable to control her muscles.

He loomed over her again, leaning down to gather the shift at her chest with a powerful fist. He turned, dragging her along the floor towards the entrance to the dungeon. He picked one of the first cells, opening the door and dragging her within. She writhed when she felt herself being pulled over a grate in the floor, her hands lifting to grab his fist, alleviating the pain of his grip.

He released her, there, and stepped back. “If you can move, remove the shift.”

Every muscle rebelled against her as she pushed herself up, emitting another sob against her will. Her hands shook as she untied the sash at her waist, pushing the shift over her shoulders. She continued to kneel as she let the shift fall at her feet, her arms hugging herself tightly.

The water Helis dumped on her was cold, jolting her back to her senses. She gasped hoarsely, ducking her head before another bucket was emptied, washing away the urine and blood. She held herself, shuddering uncontrollably, and felt Helis drop another of the same type of clothing over her back.

“Dress yourself. Then come and tend to my wound.”

For a long time after he left, she vomited  into the grate at her feet, listening to the echoes. She’d never felt pain like that before, even when a Shellwalker had caught her in its energy grid and she’d felt her heart stop for a moment.

Her body rebelled as she attempted to stand, pulling her shift up over herself and tying it at her waist. The strength she felt upon getting food and water had been drained away, and she knew she had no other choice but to return to the room.

He was waiting for her next to a pitcher of water and a bowl. He wore the same angry, dissatisfied expression he always did, and every step she took towards him was forced. The fibers of her being wished to run in the opposite direction, but she knew what awaited her there.

Without a word, she drew the rag from the bowl of water and began to wash his wound as he sat. She took little comfort in the realization that it was deep and, on a normal man, would have been debilitating. But Helis was built like a Behemoth, and she’d only stabbed through muscle.

He didn’t acknowledge her as she administered to his wound with shaking hands. He sat looming over the table, writing on parchment. Without her focus, Aloy didn’t understand the language, but did her best to memorize what she could. When she slowed, however, he would stop to look at her, so she had to concentrate on what she was doing. She’d much rather he ignored her.

The bone needle and wire he had wasn’t medical grade, but she doubted he cared. He didn’t wince as she sewed his skin, tempted to do a lackluster job. Redoing it, however, was low on the list of things she wanted, so she did her best.

Finally, she stepped away, washing her hands with the rag. He didn’t look up, finishing the page of writing. Assuming she was allowed to do as she wished, she moved to one of the baskets, searching for something she felt she might be able to keep down. She came up with an odd fruit with an almost pudding-like texture and ate heartily.

Finished, Helis folded his paperwork and folded it carefully, standing and making his way out the front door. Aloy took more of the fruit and sat on the bed, scrunching herself back into her corner to think. She didn’t have time, however, before Helis returned without his papers. He marched towards the bed and her eyes widened, ready for anything.

“Move,” the gladiator ordered, and she scrambled off of the blankets. He took her spot, stretching out on his back despite the stab wound, placing his hands behind his head. In only a few moments, he was sleeping.

Aloy boggled at him. He had no fear of her, despite the collar. She sat at the table, chewing slowly as she studied him, attempting to determine where he kept the switch to her collar, or the keys to the chains. His throat was so open, so vulnerable.

For most of the night, Aloy fantasized about the different ways she could kill Helis. She imagined him struggling, bleeding, as he attempted to find the switch to her collar, the switch she would hold, taunting him.

She thought about opening his skin in a million different ways, and it gave her peace enough to sleep with her head on her arms, sitting at the table.


	2. The Sun's Chosen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets bad, guys, don't look.

The morning saw her alone once more, and she was thankful for it. She stood for a long time at the entrance of the post, looking out over the sands. After a while, she stuck her foot out of the doorway, glancing around for anything that she would trip. A sensor, perhaps, or a wire. There was nothing, so she set her foot carefully into the sand. Another step. Then another. Her heart lifted. Perhaps the wool she had stuffed into the space between her collar and her skin was dampening the shock.

On her third step her collar came to life and she fell to the sand. Gasping, she clawed her way back to the door, sighing in relief as the pain ebbed. She pushed herself up to her feet, glancing back out the door. Her footprints had only gained a few feet into the sand. She growled in frustration, heading back indoors.

She’d been storing food around the post, and even some in the dungeon. She wasn’t sure how long she would be fed, or if they would cut it off as punishment. But it was water she worried most about. The fountain seemed to be the main source, but canteens could be found in the baskets with the food. She stowed them away as well.

There was nothing of interest in the entire building. She all but literally tore it apart, finding only instruments with which she could sew. She could make no weapons lethal enough to kill Helis before he could switch on her collar, but she could hurt him. A table leg could be sacrificed. She could brain him in his sleep, but then what? If the building were rigged, she could never leave it. She would have to wait to be saved.

Helis returned at the usual time, and she was prepared. She had loosened the leg, leaving it propped up so he wouldn’t notice. When he slept…

He marched past her, and a big fist grabbed the shift at her back. Before she knew it, she was behind the bars of the dungeon hall, and he was locking it on her.

“No! Wait!” She cried, gripping them. “What did I do?”

The man who turned towards her was different. His eyes blazed silver, wild with an unseen light. “SILENCE! The Sun speaks to me,” he hissed, lips pulling back over his teeth. “He favors me with his strength. I will hear his words without your interruptions.”

Aloy leaned back from the bars, eyes wide. There was definitely something very wrong with the man. He turned from her, tilting his head as if listening to something unheard. “Yes. Yes…” he murmured, walking away from her. He stalked around the room, murmuring, most the words she couldn’t hear. Occasionally he stopped, head tilted towards the ceiling, eyes closed, and all Aloy could do was sink to the ground and watch, fascinated.

“No!” He suddenly screamed, slamming his fist down on the table, shattering her makeshift weapon. As the bowls of fruit tumbled to the ground, Helis gripped his head. “No, she lives! I did as you asked!” He howled, doubling over. “She… is no longer a threat,” he gritted out between his teeth.

“Helis,” Aloy attempted, concerned. She didn’t know what to predict with him like this. It wasn’t normal. She remembered seeing her first rabid fox when she was young, and Rost had explained to her that its mind had gone. They had to kill it and burn the body. Now, writhing in his own anguish, Helis reminded her of the beast, helplessly tormented by something unseen.

She thrilled at the idea of him being in pain, but knew he could easily take it out on her. She tried to make herself as small as possible, ducking into the darkness. She hid in one of the cells, drawing her knees to her chest. For a long time, she listened to his torment, his anxious agreements and dark promises. Then there was silence.

She began to unwind from where she sat. Perhaps he had left. Perhaps he’d gone to sleep. The keys in the lock of the rusted gate told her otherwise, and she held her breath. Heavy footsteps stalked down the hall behind her, slowly. She squeezed her eyes shut. They came closer, and silence fell as she heard them stop at her cell.

“Come out,” came Helis’ voice. It gave her chills. She bit her lip hard, waiting for the pain of the collar.

It never came. She could hear his breathing on the other side of the door where it sat half open, but he didn’t come inside. Instead, he called to her again, and his voice was even, controlled.

Carefully, she unfolded from her position. Her back pressed against the wall, she moved to peek around the edge of it. Her eyes met with Helis’ chest, training upwards to glimpse his face. Once more, it was the face of a hardened general, smooth and unconcerned.

He scowled down at her. “You tried to leave,” he stated flatly. Her breath caught in her throat. She remembered her tracks in the sand. She swallowed hard, unsure if she should reply, then her eyes dropped.

“Your hands are shaking,” she said before she could stop herself, and instantly stiffened.

Helis looked down at his hands, balling them into fists. “The Sun’s power is immense. It drains me. But I am the chosen, he has given me the strength to hear his words.” The gladiator turned, walking out the gate into the room. Aloy followed him at a length.

“What… did the Sun say?” She asked, unsure of his mood.

He was scowling down at the shattered table leg, then began to pick up the fruit he’d spilled. “I’ll bring another table,” he said, avoiding her question. She could only watch as he arranged the bowls on one of the benches, almost meticulously.

“Where do you go, when you leave?” She wondered out loud, careful to keep the fountain between herself and him.

“HADES rises,” he told her, moving to sit on the edge of his bed. He really did look drained, as much as one such as him could. “But my work is never done. The Eclipse unburies the dead, the Sun will give them life. The pieces are falling into place.”

Aloy shook her head. “You don’t make a whole lot of sense, Helis,” she accused him, taking advantage of his state. She looked quickly about, trying to determine where he’d placed the keys. They were there, on the bench near the fruit. Helis didn’t seem to notice, instead turning on his bed as he always did, back to her.

She moved towards the keys silently, but then realized none of them would open her collar. There was no seam, no keyhole. She could lock the gate, that was all. Carefully, she lifted them and stowed them in her sash. She glanced around, realizing that sleeping on the table wasn’t an option tonight. A rolled up rug on the corner looked comfortable enough, and so she did her best to find comfort in the silky texture.

 

* * *

 

 

“What are you writing,” Aloy asked out of boredom. She’d spent most of the morning sleeping in Helis’ bed, getting her rest while she could and he was gone. The rest of the time she spent going through the items in the room, restless. Nothing had changed, everything was equally useless. Helis had made good on his promise of replacing the table, and he arranged the bowls upon it carefully, as if they had a specific order they had to be in.

Now, he wrote on the parchments in a language she didn’t recognize, and she sat across the table from him, poking experimentally at the seeds of a pomegranate.

He didn’t look up. “The words of the Sun. His will, his orders. Though I don’t need reminded of his desires, others aren’t as gifted.”

She peered at the parchment. “And what does the Sun say?”

He seemed almost pleased that she’d asked. Straightening, he lifted the parchment, pointing to the top of it where he had begun writing. “ _And when the son is born, HADES will find in him a vessel of strength, and will rule the land in the Sun’s name and light, and the Darkness will fade when the circle is complete.”_

She frowned a little. None of that sounded good. “HADES is an entity. He can’t just…”

Helis surged towards her, grabbing the front of her shift. She yelled as he dragged her half across the table, his eyes blazing. “DO NOT QUESTION HIS WORDS. You will only play your part in his plan.” He shoved her away, and she got her bearings quickly, ready for his next aggression.

“And what _is_ that exactly,” she asked, fingering her torn clothes.

Helis tensed, his nose wrinkling as he took a deep breath, fury on his face. He stood quickly, grabbing up the papers and stalking out of the post.

“Sheesh,” Aloy breathed, realizing her hands were shaking. She paced for a moment, waiting for Helis to return. When he didn’t, she sat on the bed, mending the tear in her shift with the bone needle and wire. She continued to wait, nervous, and when the sun set and he hadn’t returned she couldn’t stay put. Retreating into the dungeon, she closed the gate, reaching around with the keys to lock the door. She couldn’t get out, of course, but something told her she didn’t want Helis in.

She moved to the cell at the end of the hall, where she’d woken up, and curled up on the bench. There she dozed, clutching the keys to her chest.

She awoke to roars of outrage. She started up with a gasp, listening. Helis pounded on the rusty gate, and it screeched in protest. “Aloyyy,” the gladiator howled down the hallway. “Come. Come and meet the Sun.”

Aloy curled up tighter, shivering. She hated Helis, but she hated this side of him even more.

The tumult lasted until morning, and Aloy breathed a sigh of relief at the silence. Carefully, she moved from where she sat, peering around the corner and into the hallway. The coast clear, she moved towards the gate.

“Helis,” she attempted, seeing him sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He looked up slowly, his gaze dim.

“It’s over,” he told her. When she unlocked the door, he nodded. “Good. Keep them.”

She didn’t know if she liked that he was letter her keep the keys. She frowned, moving for a sip of water. She gave him a wide berth, curling up on her rug. “Don’t leave tomorrow,” she suggested.

He blinked at her warily, brows thick over his eyes.

“The Sun … doesn’t speak to you here. It’s always when you’re away, and then come back…” She sucked her breath between her teeth, wary of her own gamble.

“It’s destined,” he told her again, almost impatiently. He was angry, but also seemed tired.

“Helis, think for yourself for once! You think you’ve been chosen, but HADES is just _using_ you. He has nothing to do with the Sun and his Light!”

Her collar sprang to life before she realized Helis moved his arm. She choked, rocking back against the wall, muscles stiffening. Quickly, it was over, and she was left panting. She emitted a frustrated growl.

Helis pressed the button again and she couldn’t even scream. Writhing off of the rug, she thrashed, the veins in her neck standing out. For a long time, he kept her like that. When he was bored of her thrashing, he released the pain.

“Come here,” he told her, and his eyes held something she hated more than when the Sun spoke to him.

Every muscle on fire, she brought herself to stand before him, panting.

He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied her. Her knees shook, threatening to fail.

“Take off the shift,” he told her, his voice flat.

She groaned as she unbelted the sash and pulled the shift over her head. She stood before him in only her collar, naked not for the first time, but for a vastly different reason.

He studied her, and when he found something of interest, he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. Reaching out, he brushed the back of his fingers lightly across the short red hair between her legs. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the urge to scream at him. He still held the switch in his hand.

She heard him stand and she twisted her face to the side, her lips tightening, unsure of his intentions. His hand caressed her beneath her collar, opening to encompass her neck, a sure threat that a simple squeeze could render her lost.

She felt him loom over her, twice her mass, and she swallowed hard. “Is this the Sun’s plan?” She couldn’t help but ask.

She could feel him pause. Briefly, his hand on her neck tightened, as if he were fighting a completely different sort of urge. He withdrew and she breathed as he sat on the bed once more.

She was barely able to relax before the collar jolted her a third time. She sank to her knees before collapsing. Agony filled her voice as she called out, pleading with him to make it stop. Her terror saw fruition when, instead, Helis reached his hand down his stomach, delving behind his belt. His eyes riveted on hers as he watched her with hunger in his eyes, and she saw his arm pumping in time with her jolts of agony. Her eyes filled with tears as she squeezed them shut, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing her pain in her eyes. It was no matter. It didn’t lesson the fire in her nerves. She could only focus on something else, something far away. The tingle of snow, the smell of pine.

She didn’t know how long it lasted, but it did, eventually, end. She didn’t move to cover herself, frightened that any evidence that she was conscious might convince him to hit her with the pain again. She squinted through her lashes, her head pounding. Helis stood, and she could see the massive evidence of his cock pressing against the fabric of the shorts he wore beneath his armor. He hadn’t finished. She squeezed her eyes shut again, but groaned when he lifted her. She was limp in his arms, not trusting her own strength. She felt the bed beneath her bare skin, welcoming it despite knowing what it might mean.

“Please don’t,” she pleaded, a hand reaching out, splaying on Helis’ chest. His heart was pounding. She had to stall him, had to keep this from happening. “Please… just wait till I’m stronger. It will be better.”

She saw him pull away from her, growling. She dropped her hand in relief. The room went dark as the soft pillow beneath her cheek drew her downwards into its fluffy embrace.

 

* * *

 

She awoke hours later. Her whole body tightened with expectation of danger, vulnerable in her nakedness. Her eyes scanned the dark room, resting on the bulk that was Helis. He was sleeping at the table as she had so many times before, resting his head in his arms. She moved carefully out of the bed, eyes on him the entire time as she moved to gather her shift. He didn’t move when she ducked behind the gate and locked it, retreating to the back of the dungeon and hiding in her cell. She dressed quickly, relieved that though pain wracked her body, she could tell none originated from between her legs.

She watched the window as the sun traveled across the sky, forgoing the food and drink in the main room in favor of what she’d stashed. She decided, then, the gate would remain locked from now on.

 

* * *

 

The silence that saw her through the day was bittersweet, tinged with the fear of what was going to happen that evening. She started when she heard the gate rattle. “Aloy,” Helis breathed down the hall, calling. She covered her ears.

The rattling grew louder, then stopped. For a moment, she hoped he’d given up early. Then a sudden crash made her yelp, tightening into a ball. Another shrieking crash, and she heard the iron bars begin to give way. “No no no no,” the Nora could only moan, dropping the keys to the ground as she heard the gate crumble.

The silence was broken only by her ragged breathing as she waited, shuddering. She kicked out when his hand touched her, gripping her upper arm, dragging her off of the bench. She screamed shrilly, thrashing, her screams choking into silence when the collar came to life, paralyzing her. Tears squeezed from her eyes as she shook.

He drew her to his bare chest, hugging her to him, seeming to enjoy the sensation of her thrashing in pain against his skin. His rough tongue lapped slowly along her jawline, drinking in her sweat, and she could feel her shift being torn from her as easily as petals ripped from a flower.

He moved her then, twisting her away, pressing her down against the bench. The pain from the collar stopped, giving her room to breathe, to sob against the wood. She cried out, squirming as he pressed his forearm against her back, pinning her down as his other hand delved between her legs. He had to kneel to be on her level. Thick fingers found her entrance, and she twisted, crying out with a different sort of pain.

Helis stopped, as if shocked. “Ohhh the Sun is generous with his gifts….” He hissed, both pleasure and agony in his voice. He leaned over her, teeth near her ear. “Beg me to stop,” he told her. “But don’t hold back the pain. Let me hear it.”

She gritted her teeth, not giving him the satisfaction. She felt something hot and smooth against her skin, parting the lips of her entrance, and she squeezed her legs as tightly as she could. He grunted, almost pleased, and worked an arm beneath her, propping her hips higher, forcing her to bend more. She was rendered helpless, completely locked in his embrace, and she cried out against the wood of the bench when the pressure between her legs increased. She felt her body giving way, and she clenched all her muscles, denying him as best as she could. He worked his hips against her, wedging himself deeper, stretching her impossibly. She felt the pain deepen, following his progress as he tore into her, and it was all she could do to keep from crying out. This pain, at least, she could handle. Her thighs shook as she continued to struggle to keep them closed, but she knew it wasn’t helping. She opened them, and he slide farther, more easily, bumping into the barriers deep inside of her. She could hear his breath at her ear, ragged. “No. Fight me,” he growled, pressing her harder against the wood. She squirmed with the aching pain in her back, in her belly, but opened her legs wider, welcoming him.

He pressed deeper, trying to hurt her, her whole body shifting as he pushed her. She gritted her teeth as he tested her muscles, bottoming out slowly, over and over. She held very still, careful,  minimizing her pain. When it lessened, she emitted a soft moan of relief.

His growl was one of frustration. He tried a different tactic, withdrawing completely only to slam into her again, bruising her hips against the edge of the bench. She hicupped a sob of pain, but swallowed the rest of them down as he tried to force the sounds from her throat. Her whole body throbbed, but she refused to let him know.

Furious, Helis rose above her, both hands pinning her down, beginning to pump hard. She let him shove her, biting the back of her hand to keep silent, refusing to give him anything. It didn’t matter now. He was taking his own pleasure, regardless.

It went on forever, but not nearly as long as a night with the collar shocking her. He had fully eradicated every sign of her virginity, and she knew, should she look, she’d see blood. He dragged himself from her almost suddenly, pushing himself to his feet. “Nora trash,” he hissed breathlessly, grabbing his clothes and the switch to her collar. He left her there, wallowing in the aches of her body.

Carefully, she sat up, eyes closing as she took stock of her injuries. A hand delved between her legs, testing the amount of red. She would be alright.

Bowlegged, she limped to the corner of the cell, curling up with what was left of her shift. There, she shivered, and once more fantasized about how much she was going to make Helis bleed.  


	3. Before the Storm

Despite the gate that barred the dungeon from the rest of the post being mangled, Aloy did not see or hear evidence of Helis for two days. She subsided on her stored rations, unable to breach the barrier and come back into the room. She slept on the wooden bench, thankful it was old and soft, worn smooth of splinters. Day and night she tossed fitfully, and though her body healed, her dreams were dark. She could still feel Helis inside of her, as if he’d made a permanent mark on her. She dreamt of his tongue like a snake’s, slithering along her jaw, forcing down her throat, making her choke. She dreamt of his knife in her gut, slowly twisting her insides as he leered over her face, his eyes mad with the Sun’s words.

When she finally heard movement in the main room, she considered running head first into the wall. Unconscious, she wouldn’t have to experience it again. But he didn’t come, and instead she heard water running, being splashed and poured into something else.

The sounds piqued her curiosity. She got up shakily and made her way towards the end of the hall, light shining on her face like the bright side of the moon as she peeked out of the darkness. Helis was there, the sun gleaming on his skin as he stood over a large tub. A huge urn, almost as big as she was, rested on his shoulder, another at his side. He was filling the tub with water that steamed, pouring it from over his shoulder. It smelled sweet, like flowers, the ones Rost showed her could heal bruises.

She winced when his pale eyes caught sight of her, and he gestured with the hand he wasn’t using to support the urn. Sweat made his smooth skin glitter like a marble statue’s.

Head down, she advanced, peering into the tub. She knew where there was a scrubbing brush, and without needing to be told, she went to get it, along with soap she knew was there. He would expect her to help wash him, she was sure. He’d been doing some sort of hard work, and wanted to be cleansed of it. Helis was odd when it came to his cleanliness.

While she waited, he set the urn down next to the other, empty one. She looked from the water to his hands, but didn’t immediately see the switch to her collar. Still, she didn’t want to risk it. “I’m ready,” she told him, brandishing the soap and scrubber.

He snatched them from her hands with a scowl of disgust. “It’s for _you_ , girl. Get in.”

She blinked at him with shock, then took another look at the water. Perhaps he was trying to burn her? She reached in, finding the water pleasant. She offered him a questioning expression, confused.

He looked annoyed that he had to explain. “It will help with the pain I caused. The comfort will be your weakness, and to keep you weak is why you are here. You must heal.”

She stared, not getting it, but at the same time she didn’t want the offer to expire. Quickly, she shrugged out of her shift and attempted to step into the water on bruised legs. He held her upper arm, guiding her so that she wouldn’t fall, and she sank into the water with an airy sigh of bliss. She could almost forget he was there as the pain from the last week leaked from her muscles and joints, replaced by a comforting heat.

She lifted handfuls of the water up, scrubbing at her face, her neck, her shoulders, desperate to wash from her body the memory of Helis’ tongue. She jerked when she felt him grab her hair, freezing in position. She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard him draw his knife, knowing from the gentle tugging that he was slicing the red locks.

“The priests cut your hair wrong. It bothers me,” he explained. She opened her eyes, watching as a long chunk of braid hit the floor behind her. She tried not to let the lump in her throat get the best of her. It would grow back.

When he was done, he gathered what he had cut and twisted it into a mass of fiery red, setting it aside, then, picking up the brush and soap, he began to bathe her.

She tried her best not to wince as he scrubbed her cuts and bruises, but he was surprisingly gentle compared to the priests who had done it the first time. The soap he was using was a harsh lye, but left her skin smooth and took off what felt like years of sweat and pain.

He worked in silence, only occasionally wrinkling his nose with disgust as he moved her to access her back, her neck, her armpits. He told her to submerge herself, and he scrubbed her hair and even her face, sitting next to her in the tub.

He broached the concept of washing her breasts without reaction, as if it were only another part of her that needed clean. She watched his face, ready for any twinge that his expression would change, ready to flee. But it never did. Even as his soapy hands delved between her legs, it was business, though the ache there caused her breath to catch.

He moved on with his ministrations, and without looking up, finally spoke. “It wasn’t supposed to be that way,” he told her. “Was not the Sun’s will. I was weak.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to that, so instead, she parroted his words back at him. “Pleasure is weakness,” she said, voice barely more than a squeak. He nodded once, lips tight as he drew her leg out of the water, washing her feet. She kicked helplessly, ticklish despite her fear, and he abandoned the scrub brush for his soapy hands, rubbing instead.

“You are filthy,” he spat.

It was hardly her fault, but she didn’t dare say so. She wondered if she kicked his face hard enough, she could drown him in the soapy water. She fingered the sliced ends of her hair.

“Who is the son?” she asked him at a length, voice barely more than a whisper. “The son HADES will take, and use for himself?”

He looked at her as if it were obvious. “It is to be my son.”

“You have children?” She found this entirely unbelievable.

He shoved her leg back into the water. “Perhaps you _are_ a fool, girl, or you are really as inexperienced as you sound.” Her brow furrowed with confusion.

Her skin paled, and she slid a little farther down into the water. “It… am… am I…?”

He moved away from her, grabbing a towel. “Unlikely,” he snarled at her. “I denied myself that pleasure. It wasn’t the right time. The Sun will tell me when.”

She was numb as she looked at him. Her hands crossed over her flat belly, and suddenly the nightmares of him twisting his knife in her gut were coming true. Her eyes pricked with tears. It was never supposed to be like this.

“Someone will come for me,” she promised Helis. “You will be dead before you ever see this son of yours.”

Helis only nodded. “That may be. But I will die facing the Sun, knowing his will lives on. That he chose me.” He placed the towels on the edge of the tub and moved away, towards the rusted gate that lay mangled, barely hanging from one of its hinges. He ripped it from the wall, gathering the pieces of it, and strode out the door.

Aloy was left contemplating his words, willing her allies to get there swiftly. Sylens, Erend, anyone. Even Teb would be a welcome sight.

 

* * *

 

 

Helis came home earlier than she expected, and she was still sleeping in the bed when he started her awake, slamming something onto the table. She surged off the bed as she was used to doing, sticking to the wall as she tried to make it to the dungeon. Then her eyes caught sight of what he had brought, and her heart jumped with hope. It was her spear.

She stopped, freezing, watching him as he glared at her. A twisted smile pulled across his face. “Quite a wonderful toy you have here,” he told her. “I’ve found it very useful in my endeavors. I’ve claimed many beasts for the glory of the Sun.”

Her hand edged along the wall her back pressed against. She was almost to the sanctuary of the dungeon.

Helis inspected her spear, lifting it, and fingered the module she had attached to the end that allowed her to override. With a twist, he broke it from the weapon, sending sparks across the room. She held her breath as he casually crumpled it in his fist. But her eyes were on the blade.

He seemed interested in her attentions, and with a heave, threw her spear at her feet. She couldn’t believe what he was doing, and with shaking hands, reached down towards it. Her eyes never left his as she curled her hands around the familiar weapon.

She didn’t know why he was doing this, only that this might be her only chance. He was grinning from ear to ear, his bare chest flexing as he used both hands to beckon to her in a challenge.

She crouched, checking his hands for the switch to her collar. He scoffed. “Broken already?” he said, disappointed. “I may not need the switch now, but you know if you do not kill me, I will leave it on all night.”

She heard the insanity in his voice. She knew it was the Sun talking once more. He seemed to drink his fill of it throughout the day, letting the heat fry his brain.

“You’re insane,” she hissed. He needed to be put down. Her words only widened his smile, and he balled his hands into fists, advancing on her.

Her eyes widened, and she brandished her weapon threateningly. “I will kill you, Helis!” She screamed, diving at him, meeting him halfway. He twisted, her spear glancing off the leather that armored the upper part of his chest. He flicked her spear away from him with a bracer, as if it were a twig. She drew the weapon back, twisting it up, catching the underside of his jaw with the butt of it, sending his head snapping back. He whipped it back forward, his head connecting solidly with her own.

She staggered, seeing stars, the spear dropping from her hands as she reeled backwards. She landed solidly on her rear, her ears ringing.

He loomed over her, blood dripping from a cut on his lip where he’d bitten it. He held her spear aloft, and she couldn’t focus her eyes, having to close them as she waited for his final blow. Instead, she heard a sharp crack, opening her eyes to see the blade of her spear embedded deep into the stone wall. With a wrenching motion, Helis snapped the blade off in the stone, and with a heave, threw the staff out the open window, far off into the sands.

“Take note, girl,” he challenged, standing over her. “This is the fate of anyone who decides to try and liberate you, if they even find out where you are.”

She huddled against the wall, lifting a hand to test where her head had been hit, feeling a large lump but no blood. Her hand instantly moved to the blade embedded in the wall, scrabbling to pull it out. Her fingers were sliced but the blade didn’t budge, and she could feel Helis watching her with satisfaction.

When he’d had enough, he activated her collar. She was almost familiar with the pain now, but still lost control of her muscles, slumping to the floor in a fit of seizing.

It was hours before Helis dragged her up off of the floor, never releasing the shock of the collar. He climbed into his bed with her spasming in his arms, holding her to him as if her noises were a sweet lullaby. She struggled to push him away, but she had no strength, her muscles refusing to listen. He murmured his approval at her attempt to fight him, his hand slipping beneath her shift, resting on her flat belly. She sobbed with pain as he kissed her cheek and rested his head on her chest, listening to the fluttering of her tortured heart. And it was there he slept while she wished the world would swallow her whole.

* * *

 

 

It was the longest night of her life. Her movements didn’t seem to bother Helis, and he slept restfully. When the morning sun blazed through the windows, he awoke in a good mood. He left her on the bed, twitching with shock, heading towards the cold bathwater that still sat in the tub. He used his reflection in the water to shave with a knife he never drew during her attack.

After a moment, he seemed to notice she was still there. Almost as an afterthought, he reached out and switched off her collar. She melted into the blankets as her muscles finally relaxed, gulping in air.

He went about his daily business without any thought to her, but she didn’t care. She was just glad to have the collar switched off, glad to be able to feel her limbs under her control once more. She tried to push herself to sit, but dizziness forced her back down. Her hand went to her head where she felt the large lump that had begun to form when he’d headbutted her. She winced as she touched it, and he seemed to notice for the first time that she was injured. She could see he suffered no such bruise, though his lip was swollen where he’d cut it.

He found a basket, withdrawing a rag and dipping it into the cool water. He returned to the bed and swiped the water over her brow, but she refused to look at him. The cool dampness on the wound caused it to feel better, however.

“Thanks,” she murmured, the word surprising her. She had not meant to give him anything for his attempts at peace.

He didn’t respond, folding the rag to place it over her brow even though she faced away from him. The water seeped into her skin, dampening her hair, and the soft breeze through the window helped reduce the swelling. He sat a while before she glanced at him, noticing that he was trying to cut the stitches from the back of his shoulder with his knife. From the looks of things, he was going to make it worse before he could get them out.

She sat up, fighting the dizziness, pulling the rag off her head. She reached for the knife, a slow, careful movement, her fingers wrapping around the leather grip as his own relinquished it. Carefully, she pinched up the knots of wire to cut them and pull them through the wound. She marveled at the progress it’d made.

“You heal quickly,” she noted.

“The Sun saw fit to give me the body befitting a chosen soldier of his light.”

She rolled her eyes. He didn’t say much that didn’t involve the Sun, that was for sure. The wire was thick, so when she removed it, blood would spring anew from the holes she made. The pressed the rag to the wound when she was done, soaking up the red. He seemed content to wait, resting his arms on his knees.

She seemed to suddenly realize that she was holding his knife. She hadn’t even thought to use it for anything but removing his stitches, despite his back to her, his attention elsewhere. Her mind was becoming addled. But he’d _given_ it to her, just as he’d given her her spear, and she’d spent the night in agony. Almost hesitantly, she handed the blade back to him. He took it, sheathing it once more within his armor.

“So, you’re not as foolish as you _could_ be,” he told her. He stood from the bed, heading to where his helmet rested on the table. He reached for it, and she knew what it meant.

“Stay here with me,” she said quickly. “If I fall asleep, I might not wake up.” She lifted her hand to her head, where he’d hit her. He frowned, staring. “I feel a little sick to my stomach,” she admitted, hoping he couldn’t see through her lie. “That’s a bad sign, right?”

Slowly, Helis lowered his helmet. “If you insist, I will turn on the collar. It will keep you from falling asleep.”

She started at the threat. “No!” She attempted to compose herself, her mind working quickly through the haze. “I… think that… if I empty my stomach, I might choke. If you turn on the collar, there would be no way for me to breathe.”

He squinted. Apparently this wasn’t something he’d considered. “You feel ill?” He asked, nose wrinkling in disgust, apparently the thought of her throwing up wasn’t his favorite idea. She could only nod. He resumed putting his helmet back on. “Then I’ll be back soon.”

With that, he was out the door, and she slumped back into the bed. She was so tired, not having even close to a wink of sleep during the night, but she didn’t dare close her eyes. She didn’t want to be defenseless when he came back.

He fulfilled his promise, returning only an hour later. He had left his helmet and armor elsewhere, including, she noticed, his knife. He wore only the gladiator shorts he always did, keeping him cool in the blazing heat of the sun. She was wary of him as he came towards her, unsure of his demeanor, but she saw the Sun hadn’t gotten to him yet. He sat on the edge of the bed, offering her a flask.

She stared at it doubtfully.

“For your stomach,” he explained. “It will keep you from throwing up, help with your head. I must be more careful in the future. The Suns presence often makes me…vigorous.” He almost sounded apologetic, but the sour expression on his face never wavered.

She took a sip from the bitter medicine, coughing with the taste. “It’s horrible,” she admitted. He stood, moving to the table to pour a glass of wine, returning to offer it to her. She washed the taste from her mouth with the alcohol, not thinking it was much of an improvement, but willing to give it a shot.

He stood, staring at her as she sipped more of the medicine, as if expecting her to become better in front of his very eyes. She didn’t dare close hers with his hawklike glare, and when she was finished with the vial, set it aside to wrap her arms around her middle, sitting up on the bed with her back to the wall.

“Will you stay with me today then?” she asked, carefully. She really didn’t want to have to deal with him raving about prophecy and being chosen. Or with how much more violent it made him. Helis uncrossed his arms, glancing out the door. The wind was picking up, and she was a little distressed to see that she could make out nothing more than a few feet from the door.

“It seems my window of opportunity has passed,” he lamented, moving to the window and shuttering it against the blowing sand. “The storm is nearly here.”

So he’d seen it while he was gone. She watched as he prepared the guard post against the coming onslaught, reinforcing and shuttering the windows. He took his time, experienced with such phenomena, lighting candles to make up for the lack of sunlight they were getting now.

He addressed the door last. “Come and see. The Sun sleeps this day.” He glanced towards her, holding the door open. She unfolded from her place on the bed, padding on her bare feet towards where the wind whipped up the sand into a dark haze, just beyond the door.

She could see it was going to get much worse before it got better. “It’s so… violent,” she noticed, glad the wind was blowing across the portal and not into it. It whipped her shift around her body as she stood in the doorway next to Helis.

“The Darkness always is,” he told her, eyes on the storm.


	4. The Promise

For a long time they stood, watching the sandstorm, but soon the wind shifted and Helis had to bar the door against the tumult. The silence within was punctuated only by the gusts of wind, the hiss of sand. Aloy watched as Helis brought several candles to the table, arranging them meticulously before setting them alight. He took up a few sheaths of paper, bringing them to his seat, and began to write.

She sat in the dark, arms around her legs, listening to the sand, the scratch of pen on paper. She thought to ask him about it, but it seemed her voice might break the sudden aura of peace she found had descended upon them. She sat on the bed, as unobtrusive as she could get, but she needn’t have worried. Helis’ attention was fully on his work.

She wasn’t sure when she dozed off, but when she came awake again, Helis was no longer at the table. She stiffened with alarm to see his back to her. He walked, paced really, at the door, and she could hear the howl of the wind outside, punctuated by his droning murmurs. His head jerked to the side as he moved, training his ears on something, a noise he heard but she didn’t. She strained to catch it, hearing only the wind.

“Helis?”

He ignored her, twisting as he moved back and forth, like a caged animal. One of the candles had gone out, and suddenly the dimmer light was far more terrifying than she’d ever known. Her eyes flicked to the entrance to the dungeon.

He turned towards her then, head tilted slightly to the side. He was breathing deeply, as if he smelled something soothing. His whole body swelled with the inhale, and his eyes closed. He rolled his shoulders.

She said his name again, but this time it came out barely more than a whisper. He walked towards her, his face an expression of serene calm. She pressed harder against the wall as his knee rested on the edge of the bed, and then he reached for her.

She didn’t resist as his large hand wrapped around her ankle and he was able to drag her easily towards him. Her shift rode up her thighs and she grabbed at the hem, trying to keep it down. She was trying to keep calm, trying to read him. There was no malice in his expression or his touch, but she knew that fighting him could escalate the situation.

His eyes were on her body, not lifting to meet hers. He pulled at the sash around her waist, and her eyes flicked to the table where he’d left the switch to her collar. If only she could…

He pulled the shift from her, suddenly leaving her exposed. She drew back, arms folding over her breasts, kicking against the blankets to move away from him. “Helis, wait,” she attempted. Outside, the storm raged.

His pale eyes snapped up to hers, and he unbuckled his gladiator’s tasset, dropping it to the floor. “Now,” was the only word that came from his lips. His thumbs hooked under the formfitting shorts he wore under his tasset. Her eyes flicked downwards, seeing him for the first time as he kicked off the rest of his clothing. There was something both terrifying and comforting about not being the only fully naked person in the room. If only it wasn’t _Helis_. He was only half hard, but already she was doubtful such a thing would fit into her. No wonder she’d bled.

His hand encircled her ankle once more, pulling her close. She twisted free, her eyes once more flicking to the collar switch. He grabbed her face, turning her to look at him as he loomed over her, commanding her field of vision. He leaned close, a hand pressed into the bed next to her head. The voice that whispered was one untainted by the Sun’s influence. “Don’t fight me, and it will be better. You are so beautiful when you’re in pain.” She squinted her eyes shut, remembering the tone he had when he commanded her to fight back, encouraging his violence. Was this his attempt to make it easier for her?

She stared up at his face as he looked down at her body, a hand on her wrist dragging her arm from across her breasts. She let him look, knowing she had nothing he hadn’t seen before. She could almost feel his gaze, and she swallowed as the goosebumps arose on her skin. When he was satisfied she wouldn’t cover herself again, he pushed himself to sit back on his heels, kneeling between her legs.

If he only found her beautiful while he was torturing her, he was betraying himself with how he looked at her now. His eyes lingered on her bruises and scrapes, remnants from when he’d ground her into the bench in the back cell. It was different now, almost intimate in his bed, and if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that she was with someone who cared for her.

Her eyes snapped open when he felt his hand delve between her legs, surprised at his tender touch. She suddenly felt self-conscious as he loomed over her. Her legs attempted to squeeze shut, even as he sat between them. With a warning noise, he shoved them back open. He withdrew slightly, and she emitted a soft sigh of relief, but then he was leaning down, his tongue sliding past his teeth, caressing her slit. She jerked with the sensation, rolling her eyes to the ceiling as she stared, closing herself off from what she was feeling. He wasn’t doing it for her, she knew.

He continued to taste her like a sip of cool water, making her squirm. It was an altogether different feeling, and she didn’t deny it was making her relax. She felt it in her joints as they loosened, and she let out a sigh that sounded far too airy. If she could only pretend.

He bit the inside of her thigh, bringing her back to the present. He wasn’t going to let her distance herself. He stretched himself over her, and all she could see was the bundle of muscle that was his shoulder. She felt him take her hand with the one that wasn’t supporting himself, guiding it to his cock. It was softer than she expected, as if he weren’t enjoying this either. He made her squeeze, and she gulped with trepidation as she felt him jerk in her grip.

His hips lowered, pinning her hand around him between their stomachs. He pumped into her grip, hardening quickly with the friction, and she felt an odd wetness leak from his tip. It made his cock slick, and the noises it made as it slid through her fingers made her feel odd. She wanted to be disgusted, but at the same time it was such a basic phenomenon, so primal it made her curious.

She squeezed, hard, wondering if it would hurt him. He grunted in her ear, but otherwise just kept moving against her belly. He was much larger now, much harder, and she could feel his pulse against her fingertips, throbbing slowly. He wasn’t even breathing hard, but she was. Her own heart beat almost feebly compared to his, like a rabbit’s.

When he pulled himself from her, it was to slide the head of his cock against the wetness he’d left from his tongue. She steeled herself, muscles tightening instantly, trapped within the cage of his arms. His hips pushing between hers forced her thighs to open wider, stretching her joints. She didn’t know what to hold on to, so her hands encircled his forearms, her eyes wide as she gazed up at him. Once more, he was working his hips into her, filling her with his cock, but this time it was easier. He watched her face, feeding off the pain he saw there, pain that never took to her voice as she lay silent beneath him, eyes screwed shut. He awoke the ache he left when he took her the first time, and she felt it in the center of her core, a dull throbbing pain that seemed to move with him.

He was in no hurry, she could tell, so she prepared herself for the long haul. She drew her knees up, learning that it was easier this way, and if she arched her back just so, it didn’t feel so bad… In fact, it was getting rather nice. He could move freely within her now, and the motion soothed her mind, wiping it blank of worry and fear. It hurt, but it wasn’t a hurt that meant injury. It was the hurt she felt after exercise, the bruising of muscles she’d never used. She tightened those muscles experimentally, and he shifted his hips, hitting new places within her, and against her will she emitted a soft whimper at the sensation. It was so different, so alien.

Their bodies fit together so perfectly, though his hips didn’t meet hers, bottoming out before he could give her his full length. She wondered what it’d be like to feel something like that, someone’s hips snug against her pelvis, and she began to understand why she heard it said it was so hard to tell where one person ended and another began.

He didn’t withdraw completely as he moved, never lessening the pressure as he worked himself against her body. He wasn’t winded despite the work, his breathing deep and slow, matching his movements. She wasn’t sure how this was going to end, how long it was supposed to last, what the mysterious event was that people did this for.

Her thoughts turned inward, focusing on the strange pressure she felt deep in her belly that wasn’t just him. It was almost like how she felt when he activated the collar, her muscles tightening without her control. But it was much more… pleasant.

She tilted back her head, lips parting as she panted through them, her eyes closed. To her, Helis wasn’t even there, and she took pleasure in the feeling between her legs, the thickness she felt deep in her body, the undulating movement that sent waves of sensation through her mind. She was in her own world, then, the hiss of sand blowing across the outpost mixing with Helis’ breathing. It all became one, the same desert storm, a thing of nature that was terrible but beautiful at the same time.

When she came, it took her off guard. A particular thrust sent her eyes wide, and suddenly she needed more, craved something deeper and harder. Her hips rolled up to meet his as she gasped, her nerves becoming electrified. He obliged at once, and in her clouded state she hadn’t noticed his movements becoming fiercer, his breathing tinged with low grunts as he escalated above her. She didn’t care. She wanted more of that feeling, wanting it to blossom, striving for an end she didn’t fully comprehend. The orgasm wracked her body and she writhed like an animal beneath him, her nails catching his chest and dragging downwards as if to force more of him against her.

His breathing hitched at the clenching of her muscles, the stalling of her noises as her mouth hung open, soundless, her whole body tightening around him. He dropped a hand, fingers digging into her hip, pinning her tightly against him as he dug deep. Rolling his hips without withdrawing, he ground hard, as if trying to bury himself in her core, and it was there he found his release. His back arched upwards like a cat’s, and he relished in the pleasure he so often denied himself. She barely noticed, her own head rolling back, limp beneath him, her breathing light and quick, her skin damp with sweat.

Pressing his weight down against her, he rested for only a moment, listening to her heart flutter against him. When she began to squirm beneath him, striving for a breath, he dragged himself from her, rolling off the bed. She gasped, in a daze, seemingly unsure of what just had happened. Her fingers trailed down, sure she’d find blood again. Only a clear wetness greeted her, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

The lone remaining candle illuminated Helis’ silhouette against her and the wall, making him seem impossibly larger than life. She could only watch as he snuffed the candle’s flame as easily as he would a life, submerging them in darkness and silence. She turned from him then, lost in her own thoughts, lost in every way as she curled into a fetal position, her whole body throbbing.

When he returned, she began to climb off the bed as she often did to relinquish it to him. An arm barred her way, and she curled up once more, finding no comfort in his closeness. She hugged her knees, facing the wall, barely responding as she felt him stretch out behind her.

“What now?” she murmured softly, not sure what answer she expected.

“Sleep, if that’s what you want. If the bed comforts you, there’s no need to leave it. The closer you are, the less time I’ll waste dragging you back when I’m ready again.”

She winced. “How long does that take?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper. Indeed, her throat was raw from something other than her collar for once.

She felt Helis shift behind her. “Very soon. I don’t need the rest, but I suspect you might.” His voice was impassive, lower than usual, almost comforting.

She was quiet for a long moment, considering her position. “I’m glad you stayed with me,” she admitted. “I’m glad I didn’t lose you completely to the sun. I don’t want to think about how it might have been.”

She felt him turn towards her, but he didn’t answer her words. Instead, his heavy arm draped over her, and she emitted a groan as he pulled her back against him. It was like being pressed against the wall. He reached down, parting her thighs with his hand. She squirmed, but he had her in his grip, lifting her leg up and over his own. In only moments, he was within her again, and she whimpered as her over-sensitized nerves sparked anew.

It took him longer this time, but she endured it. She was becoming used to having him inside her, the fullness she felt when he ground against her body. Every time she would let her mind wander, drift from what was happening, his teeth found her neck and she would jolt back to her senses, back to what he was doing to her again.

She didn’t know how many times it went on. Most of the night, she was certain. Each time he took a little longer to recover, taking a little longer to finish within her. She was no longer there. The damage had been done. There was no longer anything to protect.

When he withdrew from her once more, finally, leaving her body pulsing and sore, he twisted away, moving to gain his feet. For a moment she saw his knees weaken and he staggered, but it was only a fleeting moment. He brought her water after satiating his own thirst.

She watched him with half-lidded eyes, exhausted, as he moved to the window, opening the shutters. The night was clear once more, the silvery moonlight filtering in and causing the fountain to glitter.

He emitted a noise of satisfaction, returning to the bed, and she groaned at the thought of him wanting to go again. Instead, he threw his blanket over her, stretching out on top of it. “When the sun rises, I will get more hot water,” he told her. “I will show you how to empty the tub so I can refill it.”

The thought of a hot water soak thrilled her. She only knew the pleasure in small things now, her world narrowed to the few square yards that was this post and the dungeon that connected to it.

She scrunched the blanket tight around herself, finding sanctuary in it. For now, her body belonged to her, for however long that might be. “I’d like that,” she admitted.

It wasn’t long before she heard the sound of his breath slow, lengthen, and she twisted to look at him. He lay on his back, hands behind his head and legs crossed at the ankles, taking up nearly the entire mattress. If she squinted in the dark, she could see an artery pulse in his neck.

Her eyes glanced towards the blade of her spear still embedded in the wall. Her fingers itched to attempt to gain it once more, but he was cornering her against the wall. She didn’t dare try and slip past him… the last thing she wanted was for him to wake and decide he wanted to be hilt deep within her again. Besides, she doubted she could walk.

So, instead, she pretended. Pretended she was in her own bed, alone, free of her aches and pain and without a ring of metal around her neck. In a body that had never known the touch of anyone let alone someone like Helis. She pretended she was still among the Sacred Lands, that Rost still lived, that she’d never heard of the Proving or GAIA. She curled up tightly, hugging her knees, and wished she’d never been born at all.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning saw her alone, without even the sound of the birds to accompany her. The pain in her body had lessened, and she was thankful for it. She marveled at her own body, impressed with its ability to handle the abuse Helis had put her through the night before and still not trouble her when she moved. Her legs were a different story, but it took her only a few moments to become herself once more.

In the hopes that Helis would make due on his promise to bring hot water, she dragged the tub to the front door and pulled the plug, watching the water drain from it. She knew where to find what she needed to clean it, scrubbing it free of the soap from her last bath before hauling it back to where it had been. She wondered a moment at Helis’ appreciation for cleanliness and order, finding it almost humorous despite his chaotic nature.

She busied herself with mending clothes, finding even a piece or two of armor that needed work. She stripped the blanket from the bed, finding small spots of blood, both hers and his. She scrubbed at it in the fountain, satisfied that once dry it would be good as new, and hung it partially out the window.

She continued to arrange things until Helis returned, late in the afternoon. She steeled herself for the state of mind he might be in, but he seemed calm as he made his way. He carried the two urns, one slung over his shoulder, the other in his hand as he walked, and she marveled at the sheer strength it took. Wherever the water came from, it was not nearby.

She moved to take one of the urns, trying to help, but he shrugged her off and filled the bath with water and the room with the sweet scent of medicinal herbs. He left her to it, then, moving to the table to write in a leatherbound book. As he passed, she noticed eight parallel furrows down his chest, reddening as she realized they matched her fingernails perfectly.

They sat in silence for a long time, him writing and her soaking in the water. She hoped it’d last forever, but it wasn’t long before the water cooled, losing its soothing effect. She’d almost fallen asleep. He looked up as she stood.

“Have you eaten?” He wanted to know, scowling at her. She paused. She hadn’t remembered when she’d eaten last, not having been hungry. He saw her hesitation and his fist tightened on the pen he was using, a flash of fury overcoming his features.

“You _must_ eat. Or I will feed you.”

She straightened. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I’d… I’d just forgotten.” Quickly, she threw a towel over herself and gathered an array of dried fruits from the baskets. She was aware he was watching everything she did.

“And meat.”

She frowned, slowly reaching for the dried jerky, adding it to her bowl. He was acting strangely, and she was instantly on guard. But soon he turned away and she sat at the table to eat, watching as he tested the water she left behind in the tub. Finding it acceptable, it seemed, he removed his own clothes and climbed inside. He easily took up the entire fixture, sitting up to scrub away at his own skin.

She peered curiously into the book he’d been writing in, drawing it closer to attempted to read the scrawling handwriting. She didn’t recognize the language, handicapped by her lack of a focus. Regardless, she flipped through just for something to look at that wasn’t her unwanted warden.

“The Sun is pleased with us,” he told her, inspecting the shallow wounds on his chest. “I have made sacrifice in his name this morning, as I will every day until his vessel is born.”

She winced at his announcement, squirming uncomfortably. She didn’t _feel_ any different, perhaps she was incapable. She wondered, if that were true, he would stop trying. Then, he would probably kill her. What use did he have for her otherwise?

Why not ask? What did she have to lose? Carefully, she pushed aside the journal, relieved to see he didn’t seem to mind her looking at it.

“Helis… will you kill me if I can’t have a child?”

He looked at her, as if surprised by her question. “If that were true, I would have already killed you,” he told her, scrubbing under his nails. “The Sun speaks to me… he told me…”

“The Sun can’t know everything,” she interrupted. “Does the Sun know who my mother was? How I was born?” She felt herself treading into deep, hot water with the conversation topic, but she had no one else to speak to.

Helis scowled darkly. “He created you for me. Those were his words. He would not make you barren.”

“And if it’s a girl?”

“What?” Helis snapped.

She cringed a little, eyes on her breakfast. “If… I _do_ get pregnant, and I have a girl?”

His upper lip curled in a derisive smirk as he climbed out of the tub, dragging a towel up to dry his face. He began to dress. “He would never waste my time, my seed, on a girl child,” he said confidently.

She rankled at his words, but kept her eyes down, narrowed. He seemed to notice her objection and she heard him heave an exasperated sigh. “If such a thing would occur, I would accept the challenge to try again,” he said plainly.

She looked at her bowl of food, and with one smooth motion slid it off the edge of the table. It clattered to the floor, and he whirled at the sound. His pale eyes took in the mess, and lifted to her dead expression.

“You. Will. Eat,” he ordered, taking a step towards her.

She lifted her chin, fixing him with an “or what” expression.

Furious, Helis turned to rifle through his clothing. She knew what he was looking for. When he came up with the switch for her collar, he stopped, realizing what she was doing.

“You don’t know what that will do,” she challenged him. “Go ahead. Keep it on all night and day and we’ll see just how magnificent your god child ends up growing within a broken body.”

His eyes widened with fury; they looked like shards of ice. He bared his teeth in a roar and in three steps he reached her, his movements almost too fast for her to react. The back of his hand whipped her head to the side, and she tasted blood before her world turned black.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. The Drought's End

When she awoke, she blinked several times, not sure if her eyes were open. Instead, she found it only to be dark. She lay stretched out on Helis’ bed, tucked carefully into the blankets. Her eye felt swollen, but a damp rag sat above her brow, scented with some sort of herbal remedy. She didn’t move her limbs, taking stock of her position before deciding what to do next.

Helis was nowhere to be seen, so she listened, finding only silence. Carefully, she sat up, trying to ignore her throbbing head. He was there, laying on the floor next to the bed, stretched out as if he were just as comfortable there than anywhere else. _Comfort is weakness_ , she reminded herself of his words.

She extricated herself from the blanket, not daring to step over him, instead moving to the foot of the bed and gaining the floor there. Barefoot and naked, she padded to the fountain for a drink. Heli’s armor was nearby, and she fought the urge to rummage through it for the controls to her collar. What then? Would she destroy them? Would it send her into shock for the rest of her life afterwards?  She couldn’t risk it. But if she could hide it…

With the silence of a fox, she went through the armor. There was nothing to tell where the switch might be. Her head throbbed, and she wondered if he’d given her something that made her dizzy. Sleepy. She longed for the bed once more. It was then that something glittered against the wall. Dismayed, she was reminded of her spearhead so close but unattainable, almost taunting her. She looked down at the strap in her hand, at the hook used to fasten a bracer to an arm. Perhaps…

For several minutes, she used the hook to scrape at the edges of the blade, trying to free it from the stone prison. She grit her teeth at the noises, knowing a mouse would be louder, but if Helis caught her doing this, she would be out her one chance.

When the blade came free, she was ready to catch it. Dropping the strap, she stood, padding over the Helis’ supine, sleeping form. She stepped over him, her breathing quickened as she knelt, straddling his stomach. The blade came up and over her head, and she once more saw the pulsing of his artery in his neck…

“Lyssa,” he murmured in his sleep, shifting slightly. Her whole body stiffened in alarm.

Slowly, his eyes opened, and he showed no fear as she prepared to open his throat, his eyes focusing on her, recognizing her. “Do it,” he whispered, his eyes almost sad but his lip curled in derision. “Quickly.”

The muscles in her arms stood out as she prepared herself for the plunge. She imagined the floor stained with red that, for once, wasn’t hers. How long would she bathe in it, celebrating his demise?

Forever, she told herself. Until she died, alone, in this remote building, too afraid to take three steps from the door. Her hands shook, her green eyes on his. She took a deep breath, her eyes blurring. With a cry, she stabbed downwards.

She didn’t have the strength. She knew as soon as she moved she had missed, but not entirely by accident. The blade, forced by both of her hands, skipped off his collarbone and buried in his shoulder. He grunted hard at the impact, his body flexing beneath her. Her fingers slipped, dropping from the spearpoint as she collapsed against him, releasing a moan of hopelessness.

He let her sob against his chest, a hand moving to wrench the weapon from his shoulder. He tossed it aside as if it were in his way. He bled freely, and Aloy thought he would press his hand against his wound when his arm moved, but instead she felt it surround her, tightening around her.

“The weakness has found you,” he admitted, almost a whisper. “And it has found me. Again.”

Her tears had dried, her body wisely deciding that despite the embrace, Helis wasn’t a man you cried on. She twisted in his grip, rolling to face away from him. The night was cool but not uncomfortable. She didn’t miss the blankets. And the stone floor was so similar to what she was used to while she travelled. She lay there, waiting, eyes closed, wondering what fresh hell she’d earned for her attempt on his life. The switch hadn’t been in his armor, so it was likely he had it on him somewhere. He’d start with that, she was sure.

His hand slid around the curve of her hip and rested on her belly. She could feel his breath at the back of her neck, his blood on the back of her shoulder as he rested with her on the floor. “I should not have struck you,” he told her.

She ignored him. He’s admitted to his folly before, it never meant he’d restrain from doing it again.

“I can’t lose you,” came his next words. They surprised her and she blinked in the darkness. He didn’t seem keen to explain, and she refused to ask anyway. Instead, she listened to his steady breathing, her eyes on the bloodied spearpoint that rested on the ground only yards from her hand.

She wanted to ask about the name, the one he whispered in his sleep. Was it why he slept on the floor, why he wasn’t seeking retribution for his wound? She feared what the answer would be, or if he even realized he’d spoken. His hand on her belly encompassed it completely, and the ache in her heart returned.

“What did you give me?” she asked softly.

“A medicine,” he explained. “It made you sleepy, kept you from fighting. Helped with the pain.”

She swallowed. “Kept me from fighting?”

“Yes,” he rumbled against the back of her neck. “So you would eat. Obviously, it has worn off.”

She groaned, noticing the fullness in her stomach where there had been hunger earlier. So… that was how he’d get his way.

“Why use it now? After all this time?”

“It’s a last resort,” he told her. “It could hurt you if I used too much. It’s not good for the child.”

His hand tightened on her belly, pulling her back against the hard angles of his body. _The child._ The phrase echoed through her mind like a death threat.

“You believe that strongly that I’m pregnant already?” she wondered, unsure if she should be skeptical. “Does it happen that quickly?”

“Sometimes,” he tells her. “It can happen very quickly. Sometimes it takes many attempts. When did you bleed?”

She gulped, trying to remember. How long _had_ she been there? A month? “Before you found me beneath the city,” she admitted, realizing she didn’t even know how long she’d been unconscious after that.

He huffed in satisfaction.

“What does that mean?” she demanded, twisting in his arm, denying him access to her belly. “I don’t know how this works.” She stared at him evenly, glaring really, as if to blame her ignorance entirely upon him, but she barely saw him in the dark.

He didn’t answer her, only studied her in the darkness. She saw where blood had seeped down across his chest from his shoulder, already drying. She followed the rivulets with her eyes, seeing where their paths grew erratic, having come into contact with her back. His chest was dense, packed with muscle, and it was no wonder he could ignore a wound like that without complication. She remembered the day Rost had put an arrow through his chest, and he’d snapped it off as if it only annoyed him.

He saw her looking, his eyes flicking down to the blood. “If you bleed, I’ll know we must start over. If you don’t, I will no longer force myself on you. Until then, we cannot be sure.”

As if considering this, his gaze shifted to her, his hand reaching out, trailing over her hip to grip her thigh. She groaned, her hands covering her face. “Gods,” she breathed. “I never thought it’d be like this.”

He hesitated. “How did you picture it, girl?” He snapped at her, though seemed as frustrated as she. “A pool of furs and incense burning candles? Perhaps a servant to clean you up after? Or do you Nora Savages hump in the piles of dung you claim to be huts!”

She shoved him away, or at least attempted to, but his grip on her was too strong. He pushed himself to kneel, then to stand, dragging her along with him. She squirmed in his grip as he held her against him, her feet off the floor, his thigh between hers. She felt the cold stone of the wall at her back. His teeth were just an inch from her lips.

“Gentle kisses in waterfalls,” he hissed, mocking her as he wrenched her legs around his waist. She gripped at him tightly, too dizzy to keep from falling. She felt the blood of his wound seep anew over her fingers. “A scarless boy who has never seen war, perhaps? A childhood friend?”

Her eyes welled as Teb’s open, adoring face filtered through her memories. Helis reached between them, pulling himself free of his clothing. A tear escaped her eye, and he leaned close to lap it from her cheek with his tongue. Holding her was nothing to him, even with his injury.

“You’re stronger than that, Aloy,” he chastised her, his voice low. “You’re worthy. The Sun has chosen you, as it chose me. You must rejoice in what He sees in you. You were never meant for the comforts of youth.”

He let her slide downward, just a little, pressing the tip of his cock into her. She groaned, trying to focus on the good things. It hurt much less now, and even with the stone against her back, she could breathe without his weight pressing her down into the bed.

Her arms locked around his neck, her eyes rolled when she felt him press his length into her. He always went so deep, as if he wanted to break her in half. His eyes were down, focusing on the meeting of their bodies, so he didn’t react when her hands moved from his back to the sides of his face.

When she kissed him, she released all her fury, her desires, her anguish into it. Her teeth clicked against his, scraping against his tongue as she delved into his mouth while he did the same to her body. He rested her against the wall, buried deep within her, not moving as he allowed the gesture. She didn’t care. Her eyes closed, stealing from him before he could steal from her her first kiss. She gave it everything she had, hoping he could feel her hopelessness, finding nothing but darkness in her attempt.

Then he pushed back. The back of her head pressed against the wall as he returned the kiss, his movements beginning against her with a fervor that matched hers. His tongue delved into her mouth, and he tasted of blood and salt. The Sun’s Chosen, and he gave her everything as he pinned her there, pumping into her body, losing himself to the point of desperation. It was the most painless of their unions that she’d experienced yet, so she let herself be distracted by it, letting that pressure within her build once more. She’d missed it, unable to call it forth for so long. Now was her chance, and when Helis broke the kiss to huff a breath against her shoulder, she gritted her teeth with the effort to squeeze herself around him. His movements staggered, surprised by her ability, and when she did it again he groaned hard. She’d never heard him make a noise of pleasure before, and she found she rather liked it. It was power.

He shifted his position slightly, and she gaped as he ground into a spot that sent her reeling. She could feel the rough stone at her back scraping her skin, but just barely. She caught a glimpse of his face, eyes closed, his brows tightened with concentration. His lips were parted over gritted teeth, teeth that grazed the edge of her jaw as she tilted back her head. “Harder,” she breathed, and for a moment couldn’t believe the word had slipped from her lips.

Her request caused a misstep in his pace, and he snapped a glance at the side of her face, as if, for once, he was unsure. But then his hands gripped her ass harder, and his teeth met her neck, and he plunged into her just where she wanted, that one small spot…

It didn’t take long before she was shuddering in his arms, letting herself tumble over the edge as quickly as she could, taking her pleasure while he took his. He was caught off guard by the effect she had on him, and it was only a few more thrusts before he, too, lost himself, filling her with his familiar warmth.

He continued, riding it out, his movements slowed as he rocked her against the wall. His teeth released her neck and she gasped a breath.

“Next time,” she murmured as she found her voice. “I want to be on top.”

He looked at her again, and without another word strode to the bed, collapsing into it with her. When it was time, she rode him, and it was sweeter than any gentle kiss beneath a waterfall.

 

 

* * *

 

 

She didn’t have much choice about eating, he’d told her as much. So she made herself enjoy her breakfast as she took it late that afternoon, alone in the mess her and Helis had made the night before.

It looked like the remains of a bandit camp her and Nil had passed through. Blood was everywhere, her spearpoint lay in a pool of it. A cask of wine had tipped and splintered on the ground, and she regarded it with some amusement.

She glanced at the other side of the table, where Helis had left some tomes and a small bag of something. He’d forgotten several things that morning, and despite sharing only few words, she could hear the exhaustion in his voice. She hoped he had much to do and found it difficult. She fantasized that he would curse her under his breath.

She was riddled with wounds, she could tell. Small ones, nothing detrimental, and she even pressed experimentally on a bruise to test it. She brought her orange to the other side of the table, going through the books there. The bag slipped from where it leaned against the books, and a small green vial tumbled out.

Her chewing slowed, and she lifted the unmarked bottle. Carefully sniffing it, she frowned. It smelled the way her mouth had tasted when she’d woken up, before, when Helis told her he’d drugged her. Was this the drug?

She swirled the liquid within. There was only a small amount gone; he really had used the bare minimum. She probably didn’t need much, her size.

He would need much, much more. Her eyes went to the nearby canteen of water, the one Helis usually partook of when he returned from his journeys. She upended the vial within, setting it conspicuously within reach.

When he returned home, he did exactly what she hoped he’d do. He sought her out immediately, as usual, then proceeded to ignore her, going about his business. He removed his helmet and mantle, and she saw that someone had treated the wound on his shoulder, obviously finding it deep enough to be worth mending when he did not. He reached for the canteen, tilting it back, and she prayed he could not smell the potion the way she could.

He showed no evidence of stopping, draining the flask and moving to the fountain to refill it. It was a hot, burning day, and his skin was brown from being beneath it for so long.

“Have you eaten?” he asked, not looking up. She nodded, indicating where her plate was stacked with fruit peels.

“And meat,” she assured him with a nod.

He seemed satisfied by this. When they didn’t argue, there was mostly silence. She found it refreshing, but tried not to make it too obvious she was tracking his every movement.

He sat across from her on the table, adjusting a candle’s position once, twice, then opened a tome to begin writing. He ignored the satchel he’d left, but she’d replaced the vial filled with water, just in case he did.

While he wrote, she began to worry that perhaps he was just too big, too healthy for the vial to take effect. She worked at braiding her hair as she waited to see what would happen, and she was halfway through when she saw him lift his head, rubbing at his eyes.

“The Sun a little too bright today?” She asked.

“Mff,” was all he gave her before he attempted, once more, to write. His pen was taking longer and longer strokes, and she couldn’t help but grin with pleasure when his head lowered slowly, resting on his closed arms.

“Helis?” She reached out, experimentally jostling his arm. He looked at her groggily. “You put your writing away.”

He moved like he was underwater. Closing the book, he pushed it aside. She attempted something else. “Get me some wine?” she asked. She’d been unallowed to drink any of it, but as she didn’t care for the taste, it wasn’t an argument Helis pressed. But now, he pushed himself from the table, moving to where the cask used to be on the shelf. He stopped, scowling down at the remnants of it on the floor.

“S… someone broke the wine,” he murmured, slurring.

She couldn’t believe it worked. She got up quickly, unsure how much time she had. He was dazed as she dragged him to the bed, forcing him to lie down before he fell down. She loomed over him. “Helis. Where is the switch to my collar?”

“Gone,” he told her. “Far gone. Can’t use it.” His eyes were fluttering, closing. She jostled him, cursing herself for perhaps using too much.

“How do I take off the collar?”

He opened his eyes, trying to focus on the object of her question. “Don’t know. Put on by Bahavis. Not me.”

Her hopes melted, and she leaned back on her heels. Helis lifted his hand, pointing to the door.

“The traps are gone,” he told her. “Couldn’t let you hurt him. He is mine…” His hand once more dropped to her belly, and she shoved him away, trying to make him concentrate.

“The traps are gone? I can leave?” She gasped at him, unbelieving. He wasn’t answering her, his head dropping to the side. In desperation, she grabbed his shoulder, grinding both of her thumbs into his wound.

His eyes shot open, for a moment focusing on her. “What have you done?” he breathed.

“What happens when I walk out that door, Helis,” she demanded. He shook his head. She once more dug into his wound, and he twisted beneath her.

“The desert will claim you. Or the Eclipse will find you. Either way, you will be finished.”

She shoved away from him, eyes going to the door. Perhaps he was right, but she had supplies. No armor, though. No weapon. No focus or spear to override a mount. Perhaps she would be lost.

With a groan, she turned away, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her hands were once more covered with Helis’ blood, but she felt no pleasure from it.

“Lyssa,” he murmured again. “Don’t leave me.”

She turned to look at him. His eyes were closed. “Who is Lyssa?” she asked after a length, not sure she wanted to know.

“You,” he told her, eyes still closed, hand reaching out. She shoved it away. “How are you alive? We buried you in the tombs of the kings… you and the baby…”

He was rambling, but she’d never seen his face so serene, even as his eyes opened and he looked past her face. Her hand dropped to her belly, opening her mouth as if to ask another question. But then she snapped her teeth closed and twisted away. It was too much. She didn’t want to know any more.

She could feel the touch of his hand at her back, but he didn’t have the strength to do any more than that. “I’ve become so strong, Lyssa,” he whispered. “You remembered. The night of our wedding. You came to me on the stone…”

Aloy covered his mouth with her hand. “You pitiful beast,” she said, fighting the lump in her throat. “Killing you would be a mercy.”

He could only watch her from where she pressed her hand against his lips. Soon, however, his focus began to leave him, and he fell to a deep sleep. She wasn’t sure how long he would be unconscious, but didn’t waste the time she had. Quickly, she moved to gather what few things she could. She found one of the sturdier baskets, filling it with caskets of water and a few packs of dried meat, fashioning a sling to carry it upon her back. She tore fabric from the blanket to wrap her head and face, more to strap over her feet, lacking shoes. She pulled her shift on over everything, taking one last look at Helis. Alarmingly, he was already beginning to stir. She uttered a soft curse and scooped up her spearpoint. She knew she had to end it here. If what he said were true, she couldn’t have him follow her into the desert.

The sun was setting, and it almost seemed fitting. Groggily, he was turning, hands reaching for her. She clenched her teeth, advancing.

An explosion rocked her from her feet, shattering her senses. Heat rolled over her as her ears rang, and she squinted up to see a wall of fire blazing where the far side of the post had stood. Helis sat up, clutching his head, and fiery rubble rained down from the sky. She shoved herself to her feet.

“Aloy!” came a familiar voice. At first she didn’t hear the thundering of machine hooves as they approached, but the blue glow of Sylens’ enhancements spelled it out for her. She gasped in a lungful of smoke, blindly blundering through the flames, her hands reaching out. With a sudden, jarring pull, Sylens had her as he rocketed by on a Strider. He twisted her to sit behind him as he kicked the machine into a full gallop.

Aloy twisted to look back at the outpost. It burned hotly from the flames of Sylens’ blast bomb, smoke twisting up into the early evening sky. She saw Helis stagger from the wreckage. He howled her name like the roar of a Ravager, and she ducked behind Sylens as she gripped him tight, no longer wanting to look back. Soon, they were deep into the desert, far away from the sight of Sunfall, and Aloy, finally, breathed.

 

* * *

 

 

It took a week to get through the desert. Sylens explained that without her focus, he couldn’t find her exact location. The spies he had in the city did not dig up much until, almost two months later, one of them let slip information about the compound. It didn’t take Sylens long to formulate his plan of attack, where he was sure she wouldn’t be injured.

They were breaking camp at the edge of the desert when she felt the blood drain from her face. She staggered slightly before retching into the scrubby grass nearby. Sylens dropped everything and came quickly, a hand going to her shoulder. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

Two months. She’d been there for two months. Another wave of nausea hit her and she knelt. “No,” she admitted. “But I will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For once, a story comes together as planned.  
> It feels like it might warrent a sequel, but I'm not sure yet. We'll see!  
> Thanks for reading, if you made it this far.
> 
> I tried to stick as much as I could to what the datapoints told us about Helis' wife and unborn baby, but the game never gave us a name.  
> Also, yes I know Helis is super overpowered but he took an ARROW through the CHEST and WAS FINE.


End file.
